


Coffee and Paperwork

by AndInThoseMoments



Series: Trust and Teamwork [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Assets & Handlers, Developing Friendships, Gen, Past Abuse, Protective Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:19:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndInThoseMoments/pseuds/AndInThoseMoments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson and Natasha have coffee, and he begins to realise what he is dealing with, and what she has been taught.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee and Paperwork

**Author's Note:**

> Whilst not explicitly stated, it is hinted within this that Natasha has previously been abused.

Coulson sighed, looking at the pile of paperwork in front of him and frowning a little. He was worried about this. He still believed that Clint had made the right decision, but it was a little difficult to believe that when he faced a stack of information about every person the Widow had killed, every crime she had committed. 

She didn't seem like a murderer, but that was part of the point, and he knew that. Natasha could look innocent, could act as though she was harmless right until the last minute when she would embed a dagger into her victim's throat. That ability meant that after everything, after a round of psych tests and studies and everything else, they still couldn't be entirely sure that Romanoff was what she appeared to be. It seemed that she had broken through a lot of the brainwashing herself and that they had helped her through the remainder, but there was no certainty that it wasn't just a false cover. 

Despite the risks, Coulson knew he had a gut feeling about this, a certainty about it. The same certainty he'd felt when he'd through the sight of a gun at the assassin he'd been hunting, and made exactly the same choice Clint had made. It hadn't been a mistake back then. 

Coulson would trust his feelings, and pay for it if he had to. If this all went wrong, if she was a killer, if his own team got hurt - every single moment of that would be his fault. Every casualty would be because of the choices he and Clint had made.

But Natasha had shown promise, and had no-one. And if he'd managed the right call, every victory, every life she saved and mission she completed, that would be on his shoulders as well. He'd be repaid for what he had done. He frowned a little, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips and groaning softly. His agents seemed to be good at causing headaches.

"Are you alright there sir?"  
Her voice was soft, gentle and almost seductive. He twisted to find that she was standing in the doorway. He hadn't even heard the door being unlocked. He shook his head a little, realising that she had already acquired the habit of ignoring locks from Clint. They'd barely met. Another few months and he dreaded to think what she would have picked up.

He supposed he was lucky that she'd at least greeted him rather than walking over and reading the files. But he knew that if he moved to hide them now it would come across as him not trusting her. He didn't trust her, but right now that wasn't the point.   
"I'm fine thank you Agent Romanoff. Is there anything I can help you with?"  
"I brought coffee." She explained, holding up a cup from the local coffee shop. "Clint said you were fond of it, and I'm sure that your coffee in SHIELD is..." Her nose wrinkled a little in distaste. "Not fantastic."

Coulson smiled, and reached out for the coffee, putting it down in front of him.  
"Thank you Natasha... take a seat?"  
She sat down, her eyes flicking over the files in front of him, lingering for a moment on her own image.  
"My files?"  
"Your files." He answered. "SHIELD has been following you for quite a while Agent Romanoff."  
"And you didn't catch me until I let you."

He nodded in agreement with that.   
"How have you been getting on with your basic training so far?"  
"It's going relatively well." She answered, sitting smartly. He got the impression of a soldier standing to attention before her commanding officer. "I've gone off the scale on espionage marks along with hand to hand combat. I'm in the top fifth as far as accuracy goes for sniping, and my physical fitness puts me in the top one percent. I'm going to be working harder on those two. I've acquired linguistics certificates for seven languages so far, and I aim to be getting more as soon as I am allowed. I’ve reached the maximum they’ll certificate for in a year."

Coulson glanced up at her, and was hit with another strong recollection. Clint, when he'd managed to score 598 out of a possible 600 with sixty arrows, first time shooting after he'd broken his wrist. There was the fear there, just beneath the surface, that the marks weren't going to be good enough. They might have been better than anyone else could dream of, but that didn't mean they were good enough. Coulson felt himself almost pitying her. It couldn't be an easy way to live.

He reached out towards the coffee cup.  
"Thank you for this Natasha."

It had occurred to him the moment he saw the drink that it could be poisoned or drugged. If she killed him, she might be able to run. He had all her files here, and she could destroy them and take away a lot of the information that SHIELD had about her to give herself more of a chance.

He didn't hesitate for a second, not showing even the slightest hint of concern in his eyes as he brought the drink to his lips and sipped it. He would show her that he didn't fear her. She smiled a little, and he swallowed. It was untainted, but that didn't surprise him. He had been aware of the risks, but he didn't think that she would do that to him. She’d just proved him right. He echoed her smile, wondering how she made her own look completely convincing.

He looked at her closer, noticed exactly how she was sat in front of him, leaning forwards a little, the tip of her tongue poking between her lips as she gazed at him, and he shivered. He felt heated under her gaze, the way she glanced at him from beneath long eyelashes. It was a look that a lot of men had seen before their deaths, and it was unnerving for that alone.

"You're welcome." She answered, licking her lips before continuing. "When can I expect my first mission sir?"  
"It'll be a couple more weeks. You've been doing well on all the tests they've thrown at you, but there's just a couple more things."  
"Is there anything I can help you with to speed up the process?" She asked, her foot brushing against his leg under the table. He shook his head.   
"It'll take however long it takes to go through the channels."

He frowned a little, feeling a faint sense of sickness building inside his chest as her leg continued to brush against his own, her tongue darting to lick her lips once more. He remembered the rumours about the Red Room, about the nightmare that turned little children into monsters.   
"Natasha, let me make one thing clear." He started, swallowing again. "I am your handler."  
"I know that sir."

"Can you tell me what a handler's role is to an agent? And what an agent's role is to his or her handler?" He asked, as he took another sip of his coffee.  
"A handler is to supervise and instruct an agent. They monitor their progress, and report back. They are responsible for correcting an agent if they go wrong." She fidgeted a little, sitting straighter. Her body language was back to that of a soldier, not of anything else.  
"And an agent?" He prompted gently. He needed to understand her beliefs about this before he set her right.  
"An agent protects their handler. They keep him safe, they make sure that his needs are met, and that he has what they need, alongside following his orders in order to complete the mission."

Coulson could feel his headache worsening, and he rubbed his forehead. He was aware of how much words like monitor, progress or needs could hide, and at the same time realised how in a very basic way, Natasha wasn't anywhere near as prepared for this job as he had thought she would be.

"Nata-" He caught himself. He was addressing her right now as her handler, and he wanted to show her basic respect. "Agent Romanoff, I can understand that's what you may have been told, but a handler's role is to protect his or her agent. To make sure that the agent has the information and resources necessary to complete the mission. They do monitor their progress, and if something goes wrong, they give them advice so that it doesn't go badly again. But their relationship is professional. And they ensure that the agent is sent into the field as ready as they can possibly be for that mission."

He smiled a little.   
"But as well as that, they spend the whole time their agent is in the field worrying about them, advising them on comms if it's safe to do so. They fret like a worried parent, and once their agent is back, they help them to be better the next time."

"If that is what you want." She answered. She still looked calm, but Coulson could tell that she was thinking fast, trying to make sense of the wall of information he had just presented her with. She'd need space for that, and he recognised that.

"It's what I want. Now, I need to get this done, so...I'll see you in the next couple of days alright? And I'll see if I can arrange more language assessments for you. Thank you for the coffee."  
"I'm dismissed?" She asked, raising one eyebrow at him.  
"Yes, go bug Clint or something. You're already generating a tonne of paperwork, and we aren't even running missions yet." He smiled at her as he drained the cup, and she slipped away, closing the door behind her.


End file.
